Fantasia
by StarlingChild4
Summary: Fantasy AU. A series of oneshots featuring the Inuyasha cast as different mythical creatures, meeting and falling in love in different forms and different worlds. Mostly InuKag. FIRST CHAPTER: "Ignite," in which fire fairy Kagome meets and falls in love with half-demon Inuyasha. Ongoing series.
1. Ignite

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. And no, this series has nothing to do with the Disney movie or NeverEnding Story. **_

_**Author's Note: I'M BACK! I am pleased as punch to be presenting my fairy!AU series :D This will be yet another ongoing collection, where every chapter is a separate oneshot, featuring the Inuyasha characters as various mythological creatures, namely of the faerie kind, though I might branch out. Mostly InuKag, but also some MirSan and other characters in the works... Potentially OOC-sounding. It is an AU series, after all. **_

_**Chapter 1: In which Kagome is a fire fairy and Inuyasha the half-demon that stumbles upon her in need of a new home... A gift to Keichanz, who helped inspire this fic into existence.**_

_**Originally posted: July 9, 2019**_

_**Characters: InuKag**_

_**Words: 3,395**_

_**Rated: K+**_

_**Enjoy! **_

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**Ignite**

The cottage on the edge of the forest has been empty of life, save the lingering traces of magic in the hearth, for almost twenty years. A permanent layer of dust coated everywhere, and even the spiders have long abandoned their homes, leaving flimsy, white cobwebs in their wake. If one stepped inside, and didn't choke immediately on the thick cloud of dust and debris bursting out into the fresh air, they would find the ceiling was blanketed in those cobwebs, with nary a spider nor an unfortunate fly among them.

With unending wear and tear from the elements over the years, and no one to maintain its structure, the building itself rapidly became dilapidated over the years. The roof looks rather like a giant sat on it more than once, several windows broke but were blocked again by a bit of the wall caving in, and half of the floor is covered in debris from the damage. The cottage looks more like a sunken ship than a former residence of life, laughter, tears, and warmth. And much like a sunken ship, there isn't a soul around for miles who would be even vaguely interested in restoring the place.

The only neighbors are the occasional rats and mice, but even they must have passed on word to their brethren that there was nothing worthwhile in that desecrated hovel. No food, no corpses, nothing. If a rodent visited, it was almost like a scout, searching the place, sniffing its tiny nose tentatively for a sign of anything remotely worthwhile, and then scuttling away.

The only resident of the poor cottage is something that only the keenest of noses could detect: a tiny, dying lifeform, curled up in the cold ashes of the hearth.

She is a fire fairy, and in another life, was a vibrant, beautiful little creature. Her jet-black hair, long and wavy, used to almost ignite with sparks and a red-tinted glow in her liveliest moments, now hung pathetically dull, scraggly, unkempt. Her dress, originally red as blood and bright as a flame, is as grey as the ashes of her former home.

With no human to stoke the fire, no human in need of a burning hearth, fire fairies live dangerously fleeting lives.

A fire fairy without a hearth is like a bird without a nest. No, like a baby bird who fell from a nest. Death is inevitable unless a rescue is formed, which is unlikely. Few would search the ashes of a dead fireplace in the hopes of uncovering a missing creature. As a result, many fire fairies live far shorter lives than the rest of their faerie kin, because their loneliness causes them to expire if they end up waiting too long for the next human companion to come and live with them.

Ever since her last humans died, the fairy spent her time curled up in the dying embers of the fireplace, wishing she was a phoenix, who are eternally reborn in the ashes of their former selves. But her time left in the world is rapidly decreasing. It is a miracle she'd lived this long.

During these long absences between the next inhabitants, fire fairies typically sleep away the days, in order to maintain their strength with a dead hearth. If they are lucky, another human will arrive before they waste away, before their bodies become one with the ashes they lay upon.

For the first few years after her humans died, between her prolonged bouts of hibernation, the little fairy would half-heartedly blow on an old coal, watching it glow a dull shade of orange before dimming back down to a pitiful grey. She'd exhaled once more, with a little more emphasis, placing her tiny hands on the coal as it lit orange for a moment. She'd let the lukewarm heat ignite her, envelope her temporarily, allowing her to pretend that her family was back.

But humans are just fleeting beings. They come and go, live and die, and constantly move around, almost as if they feel a calling elsewhere no matter where they choose to settle. Fairies are different. Fairies find a home and stay, until nature calls them home to the soil again, whether it be after a hundred years or a millennium. Or in the tragic case of fire fairies, that life can also be as a short as barely a year itself.

The fairy of this abandoned cottage has been lucky. She's seen a century of life pass her by, a century's worth of human generations fill her home, keeping her hearth alive and crackling. It is the only reason why she'd stayed here as long as she had, after they were gone. She has hope that someday, someone will come and light a fire in her empty hearth, bring her back to life.

But now the little fairy has waited long enough.

On a day seemingly like any other, she sits up after waking up, dusting the cold ashes off her, staring around her in disgust, recognizing, as if for the first time, how fruitless it is to wait.

_Before I return to the earth_, she thinks with a resolve she hasn't felt in a long time, _I must search for another home. Even if I don't live much longer, if I could only feel the warmth of a fire once more, I can go in peace._

She stands up, trembling, on spindly legs that have barely moved in the past twenty years, and flutters her wings. They ache and creak from lack of use, but still she launches into the air and shoots up the chimney, and out into the fresh air outside.

She gasps, feeling fully awake for the first time in decades, as nature's clean air surrounds her, cleanses her, and reinvigorates her. Fire fairies may gather their strength and magic from a glowing hearth, but like all faerie, their souls feel as one with nature. She can almost imagine that she is a flower fairy, regaining years of life by inhaling the clean air around her as she flies far away from the abandoned home that nearly killed her.

Of course, though it is helpful getting out of the ruins of her old home, the fairy knows her time is still short. The air outside and the trees of the forest can only keep her going for so long. Fire is in her veins, and until she finds a hearth where the flames will ignite her once again, she will snuff out like a candle before long.

_Please, please, let there be a cottage or village or something!_ she pleads silently, flitting over the trees of the forest for a better view. She had never considered how isolated her former home was before, because the family that lived there seemed ever-growing, always present. Only now, flying for miles and miles over treetops, did she recognize how solitary her humans were. Or perhaps, their neighbors had long abandoned their homes as well.

The only structure she finds is an old well, sitting in a glen. A ray of hope lights within her. A well means water, and water means humans! She eagerly flies over and peers down. Her wings droop. The well is as dry as a bone, with the skeletal remains of animals sitting at the bottom to prove it.

Devastated, the fairy flits down to the bottom of the well, too disappointed and depressed to care anymore. Her poor wings are too exhausted to carry on, her heart too heavy to feel anything like hope. Sitting here, at the bottom of a dried-up well only adds to her crushing loneliness, only makes her desire the warmth of a fire with an ache that physically hurts her chest. Clutching her ruined dress with a gasp, overwhelmingly washed with a desperate want, need, for a bit of heat, she clenches her other fist, willing it to light a spark.

Just one. Just one spark, one tiny flame, to remind her of her nature, remind her that she once shared and provided warmth with a household of laughter, life... love ….

Warmth envelopes her. It is tiny, but still there, a near invisible flicker of orange light glowing at the center of her palm. The fairy cups it, holding it close to her chest, closing her eyes, wishing to light on fire, to burn away, let her leave this world as she came... from the scorching heat of a flame...

"Oi! You okay down there?"

The voice jolts her, snuffing the tiny flame out. Just like her last hope, her last chance to die on her own terms. She looks up, glaring, half-hoping it to be a fellow faerie creature so she'd have a reason to commit homicidal-suicide.

Instead, her eyes light upon a handsome man's face peering down at her. Unable to believe her eyes, the fairy rubs them with her fists and stares up at the stranger. A human? No, there is something different about him...

The fairy gasps, her heart flipping inside her chest, igniting a small flame within her soul.

The man has dog ears!

He frowns, and says something quietly, though the fairy can hear him, thanks to the echo provided by the well's depths: "What in the gods' name is a fire fairy doing here?"

He shakes his head and calls down again, "Looks like you're a long way from home, little one. Need any help?"

The fairy nods vigorously, and manages to call out in her tiny voice, "Please... if you can build a fire... I need -"

A flash of red and silver drops down into the well. The fairy squeaks in alarm and clutches the stone wall behind her. The figure straightens up, and the fairy gasps again, her heart pounding faster than a rabbit's. The dog-man wears a red robe, the kind of which the fairy had never seen before, and his ears as well as his long hair is of a silver-white tint. He is handsome, otherworldly; neither human nor faerie is equal to his beauty.

He squats down and extends a hand. "Come here," he says bluntly, "hop on. If I grab your wings, they might get smashed, and that would defeat the point, wouldn't it?" He shifts uncomfortably in his crouching position, his eyes averting her gaze.

The fire fairy tentatively approaches, and places her hands on one of his fingers, where she notices that he sports long, sharp claws. Surprised but unafraid, she climbs aboard his hand, using his claw as leverage to hoist herself up. Then, she settles in the middle of his palm, curling up in a small ball, exhaustion finally taking over her being. She yawns, as the dog-man cups her carefully between his hands, and feels her eyes flutter close as the rush of the wind indicates him leaping out of the well once more.

"What's your name?" she asks sleepily, unsure of whether or not he can hear her, tiny as she is and enclosed in his hands.

And yet, just before sleep overtakes her, his response comes through: "Inuyasha."

* * *

A crackling noise rouses her. She stirs, finding herself laying on warm ashes of a strange hearth – _wait, warm?!_ The fairy sits upright in a flash, and glances around her. A small fire, burning merrily on a pile of freshly chopped logs, sparks happily at her presence.

The hearth senses her magic.

And, with a radiance that permeates her entire being, the fairy stands, trembling, her eyes glowing from the reflection of the smoldering blaze.

Launching herself into the fire, the fairy dances joyfully, as the flames tickle her and giggle in her ears. She laughs, out loud, a strange sound she hasn't heard since her human family died. Like a mermaid, she "swims" in the fire, rolling about, and rubbing the warmth all along her body, engulfing herself, drowning in bliss. Her dress is blazing bright red once more, her hair flowing and free, her body scorching with heat, delicious, wonderful, _heat_.

This... this is what she's been missing. How long has it been since she last experienced such ecstasy?

Suddenly, recalling the stranger who no doubt brought her back to life, the fairy spins around.

"No need to go overboard," Inuyasha says in a gruff yet not ungentle voice. "My house is still made outta wood, ya know. I saved your life, so now you owe it to me not to set my place ablaze."

The fairy grins, happiness bubbling over within her heart, and she leaps out of the fire and perches on the dog-man's knee.

"Will you let me stay here?" she asks bluntly. "I will keep your hearth warm, and make sure your food is well cooked and never burnt, and I will share stories if you like? I've heard so many over the years and-"

"Slow down, tiny wench," Inuyasha places a finger up to her mouth (which covers her whole head). "I ain't gonna tell you to leave or stay. Do what you like. Just don't burn my place down." He removes his finger, ignoring the fairy's indignant sputtering, and stands to move across the room.

The fairy blinks and finally takes a good look around her.

Like her previous home, Inuyasha's cottage is small and contained, with one large room with the hearth, and one door leading to a bedroom, no doubt. But unlike her previous humans, Inuyasha's home décor is …... unique.

For one thing, neither the front door nor the bedroom door has knobs or handles. The only reason why she recognizes them as doors at all is because of their difference from the walls, with a small indent on the side that almost resembles an inverse handle. And the walls themselves are covered in artwork, featuring paintings the fairy cannot recognize. The people in the paintings all have black hair, and wear strange garments, similar to Inuyasha's red robe. Some of the paintings feature swordsmen, and even hideous creatures that seem oddly like goblins, only somehow worse.

At one end of the room, stands a black cabinet of sorts, except there is no sign of any clothes or dishware. Only a single portrait of a beautiful, black-haired woman, and a couple of sticks that burn like candles and yet show no flame. But the aroma they produce! Hypnotizing and soothing. The fairy closes her eyes and gives a deep inhale. The strange sticks remind her of a hearth, only different somehow.

There is nothing else in the room, except a mat on the floor and what can only be called a table, except it has no legs! The fairy curiously flits over and alights on it. She stares at Inuyasha, who is kneeling in front of the cabinet, hands pressed together like when her previous humans would do when they would "pray" at dinner or before bedtime.

"What's that?" the fairy blurts out, instantly regretting her interruption.

But Inuyasha doesn't show any sign of annoyance. He only says quietly, "My mother."

The fairy flies down and lands on his shoulder. He doesn't brush her away, but his back does straighten a bit more. Sensing his tension, the fairy went on: "She's very pretty."

"Yeah, she was."

"When did she die?"

"A long time ago. I was still a pup."

"I've never seen a grave like this before."

Inuyasha snorts. "It's not. This is her shrine. It's a tradition from where I come from."

"Where's that?"

"You ask a lot of questions, doncha?"

"I like to get to know my human companions," the fairy says with a huff, her wings fluttering to show her barely concealed excitement and annoyance.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but I ain't human."

"Perhaps not fully," the fairy says thoughtfully, "but you look mostly human. And I've been around enough humans to recognize the smell of one. You smell like a human... who hangs out with a lot of dogs."

Inuyasha laughs at this. He stands, and the fairy has to clutch his hair to stop herself from falling. He walks over to the hearth and nudges her back into her new home.

"You guessed it," Inuyasha chortles, "I'm half inu-youkai, or 'dog demon,' I guess you'd call it here. A freak of nature, or whatever." His words are harsh and careless, but the fairy remembers how gently he carried her to safety and immediately speaks up.

"Half-blood creatures aren't unheard of here! Have you ever seen a centaur or a satyr? Oh, I even met half-elf, half-humans before! It doesn't matter what blood you have," she goes on quickly, flying up to Inuyasha's face so they can see eye-to-eye. "Humans aren't the only species worthwhile, you know. Besides, I – I like your ears." Her face burns as powerfully as the blazing hearth behind her, and she looks away shyly.

For a few moments, the two are silent, with no sound except the crackling flames. Then, Inuyasha speaks: "You haven't told me your name yet."

The fairy falters. "W-well, I, um, the thing is – fire fairies aren't born with names." She flushes more brightly. "We are spirits of the hearth, born of the need for a home, for shelter, and it is a privilege to be named at all by our human – er, human-like companions."

"And no one ever gave you a name?"

"Humans aren't exactly aware of fairy lore," the fairy mumbles, sinking down to the hearth, to sink her toes in the ashes. "They like to think they do, and we fairies of all kinds find it kinda cute, you know? But-"

"Kagome."

The fairy freezes. She stares up at Inuyasha, whose golden eyes are locked on hers.

"I'm naming you Kagome. It means 'lost' in my old language, and you lost your old home, right? That's why I found you in an old well, of all things. So, you're Kagome now. Gotta problem with that?"

The fairy blinks. Then, flutters her wings and hovers in the air above the hearth. The flames shoot out and engulf her, similar to before when she so joyously experienced life again, but now the fire has turned blue. Inuyasha yelps and jumps back, but the fire doesn't burn the house in any way. The flames grow taller and taller, until they almost touch the ceiling and floor. Billowing and swaying like the waves upon a beach's shore or the treetops on a windy day, the blue inferno grows outward, enveloping the whole inside of the cottage, surrounding Inuyasha completely.

Instinctively, he clenches his claws, ready for an attack, but nothing of the kind happens. The flames swell and recede, and a distant, almost imaginable, music fills the room. The echo of shadowy voices, haunting and mesmerizing, breathes in and out with the flames, like a dance, a rhythm.

Curious despite himself, Inuyasha reaches out and touches the flames. They are cool and warm at the same time, soothing, ethereal. Then, from within the blue blaze, a small hand grasps his. Without thinking, Inuyasha pulls and a beautiful young woman steps out.

Instantly, the fire disappears and music fades, leaving only the quiet flames on the hearth, and his home still completely intact and undamaged. Inuyasha shakes himself, and takes a closer look at the strange woman. Her black hair, her flaming red dress, her wings -

"Inuyasha," Kagome says in rapture, her eyes shining with an indescribable joy. "You've given me a name. I can now change my form however I please, like a true faerie. Only those who learn and are given their true names can do so. You did that. For me."

She flings her arms about his neck and kisses him full on the mouth. Inuyasha starts back, but then returns the kiss.

When they part, they're both blushing, but then Kagome giggles in her fairy bell-like voice. "And now you definitely can't leave me alone."

"Half-demons live a lot longer than humans, you don't need to worry about that," Inuyasha mumbles, still stunned by the kiss.

"I'll hold you to it."

"You'll keep my hearth burning?"

Kagome smiles radiantly and, in a flash, reverts back into her small, fairy form and shoots into the middle of the fire. Peering out at Inuyasha through the flames like a curtain, she grins playfully.

"Only when you don't need my company."

* * *

_**AN: Okay, but guys. I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT FAIRIES, OKAY? With that off my chest, I hope you enjoyed my first dive into Fantasia's multi-verse! Please let me know what you think and leave a review! Thanks for reading!**_


	2. Awaken

_**Author's Note: So I meant to write a MirSan chapter next, but then I stumbled upon an old piece of writing from almost 3 years ago, when I was trying to get a feel for writing fantasy again. Inspired, I decided to add it to my Fantasia collection, though it took me a while to decide who to cast. This is that old piece, but altered: instead of an owl, I included a dog, and added more details.**_

_**Chapter 2: In which a forest guardian awakens a dryad from her winter slumber... **_

_**Originally posted: July 21, 2019**_

_**Characters: Sesshomaru and Rin**_

_**Words: 633**_

_**Rated: K**_

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**Awaken **

The last delicate touches of frost still clung to the grass and leaves on the first morning of spring. A few birds twittered in the distance, and rabbits cautiously hopped out of their burrows, quivering as their warm bodies met the brisk air. A few brownies were outside, bundled up in little coats, helping each other brush off the leftover snow hanging over their homes, and other creatures' homes as well. Slowly but surely, the forest began to awaken after a long winter slumber.

But there's one resident of the woods who was taking her time to greet the arrival of spring. Her boughs still carried icicles and frost traced intricate spiral designs along the sides of her trunk. The great elm tree, that stood not far from the still-melting icy lake, was stirring, very slowly, reluctant to be roused from her comfortable dreams.

Then, a magnificent white dog, too large to even be called a proper wolf, approached the slumbering tree. He padded up silently, his enormous paws disintegrating the patches of snow beneath his footsteps, and came up to a stop under her boughs. He lowered his large head until his nose was almost touching the trunk and rumbled a low, deep growl. The vibrations of his growl reverberated against the bark of the tree, almost shaking it like one stirring a sleeping friend in their bed.

The roots of the elm tree seemed to come alive, forming legs that stretched and coiled. The outline of a face suddenly appeared in the trunk. The elmish eyes glanced upwards, narrowed at the large white-furred culprit. The great dog merely blinked down at them and gave a single loud, sharp bark. The tree seemed to groan and sway, and the face suddenly began to morph away from the trunk, connecting with a torso that met with the roots that were now legs. The dryad yawned and took a few sleepy steps away from the still tree, stretching her mossy green arms over her head.

"I was quite warm in bed, you know," she said grumpily, crossing her arms and turning around to address the dog. "The air is so cold, haven't the winter fae gone to bed yet?"

Her companion merely snorted, his breath practically an earthbound cloud in the cold morning air before dissipating. The dryad huffed and looked around. The sun was now shining quite brightly over the horizon, melting more of the leftover frost, though not enough. The dryad sighed and waved her hand over her sleeping spot. At the briefest touch of her mossy fingers, tiny particles of ice melted away, and with her sweeping arms and dancing legs, soon the entire elm tree was free from winter's touch. Though she might have allowed one too many icicles to melt over the dog's head. He shook himself, cold water droplets dousing the air around him, and looked reproachfully at her. But for the first time this morning, the dryad smiled and her laughter rang out like musical bells.

"All right, now we're even."

With another laugh, she skipped about and burst into an ethereal song, bringing up violets, mayflowers, cornflowers, and columbines from the ground, and awakening their closed buds to reveal the sleeping fairies within. As they yawned and stretched their tiny wings, the dryad danced along the edge of the lake, spreading warmth from her feet to melt the ice faster, and her voice helped awaken the occupants beneath the surface. Meanwhile, brownies heard the melodic sound of her song, and began working more vigorously and cheerfully, coaxing reluctant animals to leave their burrows and helping newly awakened fae begin their work.

The great white dog watched the dryad do her work with the ghost of an approving smile on his stoic face.

Spring had officially begun.


End file.
